W E E K LY E D I T I O N | O C T O B E R 2 1 - 2 7, 2 0 19 | O U D A I LY. C O M
OUDAILY
The University of Oklahoma’s independent student voice since 1916
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OU selects outside hire as diversity leader New choice for vice president position spurs student rally JORDAN MILLER @jordanrmillerr
Tw o O U s tu d e nt s a re planning a Monday rally in response to the recent nomination of an outside candidate to serve as vice president for the Office of Diversity and Inclusion. Interim OU President Joseph Harroz announced in an email Friday that, after a nationwide search, the university s ele cte d Belinda Higgs Hyppolite, assistant vice president for student development and enrollment services at
the University of Central Florida, to fill the position permanently. This decision will become effective pending the OU Board of Regents’ approval. Interim Vice President for Diversity and Inclusion Jane Irungu was one of the search’s three finalists, and some students are frustrated that she was passed over for the job. Irungu has served in the office since August 2018, when she entered under former OU President James Gallogly as interim associate vice president for university community. The position and office were changed from “university community” to “diversity and inclusion” in May,
w h e n Ha r r o z a p p o i n ted Irungu as interim vice president for diversity and inclusion, according to an Inside OU statement. Wo m e n a n d g e n d e r studies senior Joy Douglas is the main organizer behind the rally, which will take place from 10 a.m. to noon Monday in front of Dale Hall. Douglas said she met Irungu formally about a year ago. “As soon as I met her, she didn’t know anything about me … but she kind of just took me in as her own,” Douglas said. “That’s the thing that she does for all students no matter their race, gender, sexuality — as long as there’s somebody that needs something,
s h e ’s w i l l i n g t o g e t t o them.” In Irungu's time in the p o s i t i o n , t h e u n i v e r s ity has made “substantive structural changes” with “ l o n g - l a s t i n g i m p a c t ,” Harroz wrote in the letter, which also included a list of 15 specific accomplishments made under Irungu’s watch. The list includes the establishment of the Bias Response Committee, which addresses reports of bias and discrimination across all campuses, the creation and implementation of a multi-phase diversity and inclusion plan and partnership with student leadership to ensure student voices are amplified
and heard, according to the letter. “It just does not make sense as to why she wasn’t (selected) and given the position as (vice) president because it’s not even like she was given the position — she earned the position by the hard work that she did,” Douglas said. “And JANE IRUNGU this is not only for me, there CAITLYN EPES/THE DAILY are multiple students that can attest to this … there are so many students that are upset about this because they know that this was not done right, and it’s not right to not have her as the vice president.” In an emailed statement from an OU spokesperson, see DIVERSITY page 2
BELINDA HIGGS HYPPOLITE VIA OU.EDU
OKC rapper Jabee tells his story graduation, moving between homes, sometimes c r a s h i n g o n a f r i e n d ’s couch — he sees the east side as home, a home he’s devoted his career to improving for future generations. “I want to be in a better position to help my people and take care of those people who took care of me when I was growing up,” Williams said. “To help build and enrich and educate my community.” ‘In the black future, there’s a place so dangerously absurd’
Oklahoma City-based rapper Jabee performs at Scissortail Park Oct. 19.
Jabee draws on life experiences for music, activism ABIGAIL HALL @abigail_wah
Jabee Williams collects himself underneath yellow dangling lights. Wearing a black hat with the Black Panther logo embroidered over the familiar text “Make America Great Again,” the hip-hop artist from Oklahoma City picks up the microphone and begins to rap. “My brother got killed, My cousin got killed, My best friend got killed, Man, this life is real.” In a small loft at The Third Space on Campus Corner, Williams, known by his childhood nickname “Jabee,” shares the story of his life through beats and pauses. An intimate crowd of about 12 people fills the room. College students bob their heads to the beat in the front row of foldable chairs, while a few friends
and supporters of Williams filter behind them. Later that week, the third incident in 2019 of an individual wearing blackface occurred in Norman. Williams was scheduled to perform at another local venue, but after the incident, he was warned by friends not to. “That’s exactly the reason I should play,” he responded on Twitter. Williams said, if anything, incidents of ignorance make him want to show up, stay and spit his truth. “I think it’s important to always go out of my way to fight racism, and anyone who knows me or knows my music ... (knows) that’s a big part of my mission,” Williams said. “If I don’t show up because of something like that, they win.” Showing up to share his life story through his melodies — addressing racism, poverty and the power of the black community — is Williams’ version of social justice. Williams proudly shares the values of the Black Panther movement, in
order to combat the slogan that directly negates his existence as a black man. “MAGA, to me, it really is a symbol of hatred and racism — and for me, the Black Panther logo is a symbol of hope and community and black people and minorities and people who don’t have anything,” Williams said. “(The hat) is saying, really, if we’re ‘Making America Great Again,’ then we’re the ones who built America. It was built on the backs of people who were slaves in this country and black people who were imprisoned.” Williams made the hat himself after he saw a similar version on Spike Lee’s Instagram and couldn’t find it available for purchase. To Williams, the hat represents a rebuttal to an argument. He said wearing the original MAGA hat is a bold statement, “so I want it to be a bold statement when I wear mine.” He’s created several versions of the altered hat that he frequently wears in the community. He sells them on his w ebsite, and on
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occasion, he gives them away for free. “I was at a restaurant, and this white kid said it was bold for me to wear it and said he wished he could wear it,” Williams said. “I took it off my head and gave it to him — that lets me know that I’m really on the right side of history when it comes to the ... racial divide that people still (see) when they see a MAGA hat.” Williams, a father of two daughters aged 4 and 7, stopped wearing the hat in the presence of his daughters after a waitress made negative comments about it in front of them. “I don’t want them to have to deal with some of that stuff that I have to deal with,” Williams said. Growing up on the east side of Oklahoma City, Williams experienced gang violence by the time he was in middle school. When he was 18, his 16-year-old brother, Junie, was shot and killed. While his years of adolescence were filled with uncertainty — attending 11 schools by the time of
From his early years of waking up to his mother listening to Tupac while she got ready for work, to school days rapping with his friends while making b e at s f ro m b a n g i n g o n their desks, hip-hop has always been a way of life for Williams. He was 7 when he rapped into his first microphone. His mother saw his love of the craft and bought him time at a local studio, MD Productions, to record with his friends, encouraging him to nurture his passion. “Rappin’ and hip-hop has always b e en there. It ’s not something that just came,” Williams said. “That’s just who we was — some of us rapped, some of us played ball, some of us (joined gangs), just everybody did something, so it was a natural progression.” Williams’ younger sister, Elizabeth Williams, recalls him rapping along with their cousin D’Angelo in their grandmother ’s l i v i n g ro o m w h i l e t a king apart TVs and stereos to make their own studio equipment. By 15, while his friends w e re i n ga ng s o r sp e nt their nights smoking and drinking, he was performing across Oklahoma City in local clubs and house parties, making a name for himself. “It’s crazy because most of his friends, like D’Angelo, and our brother Junie that was all around us when (we) were kids — they’re all dead now,” Elizabeth said. Williams can recall countless friends from high school who are either dead, doing life in prison or on death row. If it weren’t for rapping, he said, a similar fate awaited him. Through the pain of losing those closest to him, Williams devoted himself
to his rhymes and protecting his sisters, Elizabeth said. Williams took any opportunity to push his music into the world. He began r a p p i n g w i t h a Na t i v e American group and traveling to Dallas on weekends for rap battles. “I could do this for a living,” he remembers thinking the first time he made $100 from a show at a house party. “If I do this three times a week, that’s $300.” Williams spent his days working part-time jobs and rapping at night and on weekends, but in 2013, he decided to quit and focus on his music full time. Pretending to be his own PR agent, Williams would send emails to press and venues, getting himself through the door, gaining equity and building his name out of sheer force of will. He went from making $100 a show to touring nationally and internationally with household names in the hip-hop industry, and he won an Emmy Award in 2014 for his creation of a commercial for Science Mu s e u m O k l a h o ma. In 2016, he released his most recent album, “In the Black Future, There’s a Place So Dangerously Absurd,” which was inspired by a poem of the same name by local poet Najah Amatullah, about a future where the black community is allowed to succeed w ithout social bar r iers placed around them. The album includes three tracks of Amatullah reading the poem aloud and several other tracks with featured artists, including Chuck D of Public Enemy, who is a fan of Williams and his music. “Feelin’ like a beggar out here asking for some change, Strange tryna keep my focus, My mom’s broken, she gotta keep her nine loaded, Bumpin’ Ice Cube tryna decode it, Chuck D said I could change the world, Tryna change myself, let the world react, If they don’t like it — then change it back.”
see JABEE page 2